Out of Her Shell
by Death By Segway Scooter
Summary: It's hard to be romantic when you're fighting your own biology. WQ/WK, lime.


**Disclaimer: **Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie.

**Out of Her Shell**

It was another quiet night on the golden planet of Prospit. The chained moon shone gently over the royal palace as a ghostly white figure crept into her chambers. Her Majesty the White Queen had just had another long day at work and was just getting to bed now.

She carefully tried to tread only on the golden rugs so that her metal talons wouldn't click on the stone floors and disturb the large figure that was already in bed. As she slipped behind her dressing screen to change into her nightgown, her head swam with all of the issues that were still unresolved as of that night. The Royal Laboratory wanted a grant for something called "spontaneously generated algorithms" or some such. The details went flying over her head. The city of Sanjiva wanted a grant for what they claimed was for improving their schools, but the wording seemed a bit...off. And overly familiar. And then there was a tax reform bill that was an utter mess.

She told herself to forget everything as she carefully slipped into bed. Thankfully, the slumbering king next to her did not wake up. She sat there for a moment, watching his thick white plates slowly move up and down as he breathed. They glistened beautifully in the moonlight.

She had caught herself "admiring" him like this for a few days now. Whether he was in training, speaking with his subordinates, or just sleeping like this, she couldn't help but let her eyes wander all over him. That heavy "royal armor" of his hiding his big muscles underneath, those gentle, dark eyes in his sweet, round face...he was quite handsome. Of course, she always thought he was attractive, but lately she had been noticing it more often for some odd reason.

It dawned on her that they hadn't had a romantic evening together since his coronation. It wasn't hard to see why; she had her political duties, and he had an army to train. That, and their last night together was a complete disaster. It was something she still hadn't forgiven herself for.

But now that he had undergone the "Royal Mutation" - the transformation from a pawn to a king - the same incident wouldn't happen, now would it? He was covered from head to toe in heavy metal plates, after all. He should be safe, shouldn't he?

...No. It was better not to tempt fate like that. Especially since fate was a cruel mistress with an iron fist around these parts. Besides, she didn't like the way romantic evenings made her act. She'd suddenly become this voracious, insatiable..._beast_.

Her eyes drifted down to his lower half. Speaking of his coronation...the Mutation had made him much physically much larger; taller, wider, more muscular and such. But she couldn't help but wonder sometimes...well, did his Mutation...**did it make him bigger everywhere?**

She winced at what she just thought. This was exactly what she meant by she didn't like the way it made her act. That nasty Beast just got through and started making her think inappropriately. How unbecoming!

But then again, he _was_ her husband. Was she not allowed to think inappropriately about him sometimes?

Her gaze wandered up to the King's exposed shoulders. She stopped to admire the short little spines that started at the base of his neck and went down the midline of his back. Absentmindedly, she reached over and gently stroked them. She snatched her hand away the second he shifted in his sleep. Fortunately for her, he didn't wake up.

She stared at her hand in disbelief. _Why did she do that?_ She was beginning not to trust herself around him. Maybe her behavior was due to all the stress from work? Perhaps a cold shower should do the trick...

* * *

The morning went by much more smoothly. The Queen managed to avoid any awkward moments as they changed clothes by hiding behind her dressing screen and keeping her eyes glued to the floor. She still felt strangely hot when the King gave her a kiss before he headed off. It felt as if her muscles were burning. She knew from experience that that was not a good sign.

It was quickly forgotten about, as for the rest of that morning she wrestled with that Tax Bill from Hell. It was such a convoluted, poorly-worded mess, and no one knew what to do about it. All of her advisers were as stumped about it as she was. In the meantime, she decided to try working on some other bills instead. She could at least get those finished.

It was on her way to the throne room for an important meeting that she made her first mistake. While walking down the hallway, she glanced out the window and noticed a portion of the Royal Army doing some light training right outside. And unfortunately for her, the King was among them. He seemed to be briefing a squad of Rooks. After he was done talking, one of the Rooks stepped forward, and the two of them assumed fighting stances. The Queen paused at the window for a moment to watch them spar, her attendants stopping with her.

The Rook charged at the King with his massive fists, but the King managed to block him - with his _bare hands_. It knocked him back several feet, but he still did it. He then flung the huge fist out of his way, leaped high into the air, and landed a punch to the Rook's gut that knocked him flat on his back. The Queen was quite impressed.

After that, the King gestured to the rest of the squad to come at him _all at once_. Now this she had to see. She quickly stepped out onto the nearest balcony and leaned against the railing to watch, her attendants politely trying to remind her that she had a meeting to go to.

She just ignored them as she watched the glorious battle unfold below. Alright, it was more of a wrestling match, but to her it was glorious all the same. About ten or so Rooks, all of them two or three times larger than the King, were now trying to gang up on him. And with a flurry of kicks, punches, scepter strikes, and leaps that seemed like they ought to be impossible with a carapace as heavy as his, he took them all down. At one point, he even picked up a fallen Rook and hurled him at a group of his teammates. The Queen's eyes went wide. Her muscles tensed and then felt hot.

Suddenly, one of the Rooks got back up and grabbed the King from behind. The King looked completely stunned and began to thrash about, trying to get the Rook off him. Surprise attacks had always been his personal weakness.

The King began to panic as the Rook lifted him off the ground. He started waving his White Scepter about, which began to glow ominously. A great electrical discharge abruptly burst forth from the King's body, giving the Rook a nasty shock and forcing him to drop the monarch. The King looked horrified at what he just did and quickly made sure the shocked Rook was alright. Even though the Rook was conscious and able to move, the King told him to lie still and called for a medic. He was just...such a gentleman. The Queen's muscles felt even hotter.

And then it happened. As medics arrived to take care of the injured Rook, the King began to tend to his other sparring partners. He then looked up and saw her watching him. He winked at her.

She then did the worst possible thing she could have done. Her blood poured into the areas between her faceplates and she _blushed_. If there was one thing the King loved to do, it was make her blush. Her muscles began to burn underneath her white metal carapace and she swore she felt them pushing against it. She had to get out of here...now. She could only pray that the King had not seen her red-streaked face.

Wait, wasn't there a meeting she was supposed to go to?

* * *

She spent the rest of the afternoon feeling horribly embarrassed. She had been late to the meeting, though she managed to salvage that. Afterward, she tried focusing on the Tax Bill of Doom. It was no good, however. Not just because the bill needed to be heavily edited at best, completely rewritten at worst; she just couldn't get the image of the King's sparring match out of her head.

She sighed. Those Rooks had been so humongous, and yet he still managed to defeat them - at the same time. Even when he panicked, he was still able to fight them off. He was just so..._strong._ No, no, that wouldn't do, it needed more emphasis. He was just so...STRONG. Yes, much better. Of course, he had always been pretty tough, even back when he was still the Writ Keeper. He had come from a long line of competitive, high-ranking military officials, and naturally they had trained him extensively since he was in his larval stages. It was this strength that made him a candidate for the crown in the first place. But now, his new power just seemed so _overwhelming_. It just made her shiver. And made her muscles burn so bad she felt like she was being boiled alive for a crocodile's dinner.

Of course, the King needed to be strong. If he turned out to be the one chosen to go to the Battlefield to defend Skaia, he'd have to go up against the King of Derse. The Horrorterrors only knew how strong that man was. Their Queen was already powerful enough to demolish buildings with just her fists.

After several more hours of trying and failing to tinker with the tax bill, it was time for dinner. A pit formed in the Queen's stomach. She had been dreading it all afternoon. The King would be there, and he would be sitting right next to her. The thought alone made her muscles ache again.

As she and her guards headed down the corridors to the dining room, she silently prayed he wouldn't be there. Sometimes he would get involved in an important training mission, and he would work through dinner. Other times, especially when he had to have a meeting with his generals, he would simply have dinner in the Royal Army's mess hall. Yes, maybe she would get lucky and one of those would happen.

They were now just about to enter the dining room. She could hear someone announcing her presence, and she could see the various palace servants and dignitaries standing up through the doorway.

She was almost there now. She was stepping through the doorway. Now would be the moment of truth...

Her hopes were dashed to pieces when she looked over to her place at the main dining table. The King was among those standing up, smiling pleasantly at her. Instantly, her entire body began to ache. She could feel the Beast clawing at the edges of her consciousness.

She slowly and quietly made her way to her seat. She tried to calm herself down by telling herself she had nothing to worry about. She didn't want anyone picking up on her nervousness. Perhaps that wink the King gave her was the end of it. It's possible that he never saw her blush. And even if he did, it's not as if he could get overly affectionate with her in front of everybody. Speaking of which, she spotted a few of his high-ranking officers here. He'd probably spend most of the evening talking to them, and-

Her train of thought was abruptly derailed when the King took her long, bony hand and gave it a kiss. Oh...oh dear...

The two of them sat down, the rest of the room following suit a moment later. The King continued to hold her hand in his big, plated paw. W-well, that didn't necessarily mean anything. He had taken her by the hand many times before. He still might not mention what happened earlier...

"Were you impressed by my sparring match this afternoon, my Queen?" the King asked her in his soft, soothing voice.

Oh no...

The Queen tried as hard as she could not to sound the tiniest bit nervous. "Why yes, I was," she replied. "It was quite stimulating."

She then mentally kicked herself for using the word "stimulating."

It didn't seem as if the King picked up on her slip. He just sighed and looked disappointed.

"It seems as if I still have problems with sneak attacks," he said, sounding a bit frustrated. "I just don't know how to respond unless I have predicted my opponent's move ahead of time."

"Do not worry too much about it, my King," she told him, patting his big shoulder while trying not to take notice of how delightfully strong it felt against her palm. "I am sure you'll overcome it with enough practice." She didn't realize that she was stroking his fingers with her thumb and leaning into his shoulder.

The King gave her a sweet smile that made her insides ache again. "I hope you're right, milady," he replied. "I just hope I learn how sooner than later."

He then placed a kiss on her forehead. The Queen heard several dinner guests giggle or quietly say "Awww!"

She then responded in the worst way possible. She blushed again. This time, there was no hiding it. A coy smile crept over the King's faceplates. He smelled blood. One more wrong move, and he'd move in for the kill.

Once dinner was served, the Queen tried to eat her meal as quickly as possible without raising suspicion. She needed to get out of there as fast as she could; she just couldn't trust herself around him. She could feel the Beast gnawing on her consciousness, telling her to do such inappropriate things as reach under the table and start feeling up his thighs.

Fortunately, the King was busy talking to his advisers and subordinates. Hopefully, he'd continue to do so. In just a few moments, she'd excuse herself from the table and say that she really needs work on that tax bill or something along those lines. Then she'd go do something else for awhile; something to calm her nerves. Another cold shower would be g-

"You seem rather hungry today, my Queen."

She nearly jumped out of her shell. How long had the King been staring at her?

"I trust everything is delicious?" he asked.

She looked him in the eye and felt like she could just melt. All he was doing was smiling at her innocently, but it was enough to drive her insane.

Before she could stop herself, the Queen grabbed him by the collar of his golden cape and whispered, "You're the most delicious thing here, my King!"

She immediately recoiled in horror. _What had she done?_ Now it was the King's turn to blush. But before she was able to apologize, a mischievous grin spread across his face, wide enough to expose his fangs. He knew. If there had been any doubts in the King's head, he now _knew_. His approval was infinitely worse than his disapproval.

"In that case, my dear," he whispered in an ominous tone, "tonight, when I get you alone, I'll treat you to a real feast - an all-you-can-eat buffet!"

That did it. For the rest of the night, she had his almost undivided attention. He would feed her off his plate while whispering double-entendres and innuendos to her. He'd feed her a slice of meat and say, "The meat may be tender and juicy tonight, but not as tender and juicy as the huge piece of meat I plan to serve you later!" She'd cut up a carrot and he'd whisper, "I hope you don't plan on doing that to me." He'd pour white gravy on something and say, "I don't think I need to mention what _this_ resembles."

But the worst part was her response. _She encouraged him._ She'd giggle at his naughty jokes, and sometimes she'd even whisper a joke back ("Will that huge piece of meat be served to me on a silver platter?" To which he responded, "Give me a chance to polish my carapace milady, and it will!"). He'd reply with a quick kiss and keep right at it. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she she just couldn't bring herself to do so. She would suddenly find herself mute. Her responses also encouraged him to drink more than usual. After awhile, he wasn't so quiet with his jokes. He also started joking around with his friends (in a thankfully less suggestive manner) who would laugh and start joking back. They too started drinking more.

This was painful, both figuratively and literally. Everyone was having a good time except her; she was merely pretending to enjoy herself. Her body felt like someone had lit her on fire. Her carapace felt tight and uncomfortable. The Beast kept screaming at her (**"Reach under that table and see how big and juicy he really is!"**) making her behavior more and more difficult to control. The best move right now would probably be to just leave. There was that plan from earlier to excuse herself by saying she needed to work on that dreaded tax bill. Yes, she would just do that, and th-

Once again, the King interrupted her, this time by draping an arm around her shoulders and cuddling her. Being held felt so good, the Queen began to completely forget what she was just thinking about. Then he started lightly tapping his fingers against her upper arm. For all intents and purposes, it was just another affectionate gesture. But she knew the tapping held a deeper meaning.

_Come out. _

_Come out of your shell._

She thought she heard the soft cracking of her shell actually coming apart. She had to get out of here..._now._

She politely announced that she had had a delightful time, but she really must get back to working on that tax bill. But before she could stand up to leave, the King suddenly spoke up.

"Leaving so soon, milady?" he cooed. "Won't you at least stay for desert?" That mischievous smile returned to his face. "We can share a banana split..."

By the Gods, no. The Queen really didn't want to hear what sort of jokes he'd make about bananas.

"I'm afraid not, my King," she replied quickly. "It's an important bill, and it really must be finished as soon as possible."

"Very well," he said simply, removing his arm from her shoulders. Strangely enough, he didn't look or sound disappointed. Oh dear...he wasn't planning on leaving with her, was he? She hadn't thought about that; then again, it was so hard to make her usual careful calculations with the Beast vying for control.

Thankfully, he told her he'd stay behind, as he had a lot more to discuss with his subordinates. But before she left, he did say, "We'll see each other tonight, then," and gave her a coy wink.

She just nodded with the best smile she could muster before leaving the dining room with her guards. The Beast hissed at her as they headed out.

* * *

The White Queen was now laying on an old couch in a storage room. The door was locked, and just to be safe, a bookcase had been moved in front of it. It was probably pointless to have done that; a janitor could always unlock the door and the King himself could easily knock that bookcase out of the way. It still made her feel safe. She had also unlocked the door to the balcony, just in case she needed to make a quick getaway, although she hoped she wouldn't be so cowardly as to do that.

Making a break for it had not been easy. She had led the guards to her study and instructed them to patrol the hallway. Afterward, she sneaked out of the room through a secret passage behind a bookshelf. She then quietly crept through the hallways, making sure none of the guards would see her. Otherwise they'd follow her, and she'd be back to square one.

She needed a place where she could be completely alone, someplace where the King wouldn't find her. Her study was not that place; he knew that's where she worked, and he'd probably check there first. Her chambers were out of the question; that was where he wanted her to go. It looked like she wasn't going to get that cold shower (but what good would it have been anyway if he jumped in with her?). The palace library was also off-limits, as that was practically his second bedroom. And just to be safe, she didn't want to hide out in any of the servants' chambers or dignitaries' offices. Too many people might see her and accidentally leak her whereabouts to the King. That was also why she didn't want any of the guards around her, even though it could be dangerous.

She needed to be completely alone right now. She needed to cool her burning body down, needed to tame the vile Beast inside her, needed to clear the pounding in her head. For that, she couldn't have any distractions.

She felt so ashamed. Ashamed at her behavior at dinner. Ashamed that she had let the Beast slip out and make her behave that way. Ashamed that she kept encouraging the King to act the way he did. And ashamed that she was up here hiding from her husband, of all people.

What she was most ashamed of is that she _liked_ it. She thought his jokes were cute despite being inappropriate, and she loved it when he smothered her with affection. She loved that everybody seemed to have a good time, even if the two of them weren't exactly acting regal. She wished she could have had a good time too. She wanted desperately to have a romantic evening with him. But she couldn't; the Beast was trying to get out, and she needed to keep a tight leash on her. Otherwise, they all would suffer.

She knew what she really needed to do; she needed to go find him and tell him she couldn't go through with it tonight. But she just couldn't face him right now. He'd pour on the charm and she wouldn't be able to resist him in her current state. He always did know precisely how to push her buttons.

Her talons brushed over a long crack in the side of her upper arm plate. Indeed, all over her body, her carapace was splitting and easing open the let the muscles underneath grow. Countless eons ago, the three-lobed, grey-shelled ancestors of all Carapaces would temporarily turn into gigantic monsters when they were ready to mate. It served to protect them from predators during the mating process and when they laid their eggs sometime afterward. This feature was eventually weeded out of the gene pool for the vast majority of their species due to the enormous toll it took on their health every time they did it. But the Queens, who were much hardier than the rest, could afford to keep this transformation. It protected them from would-be assassins as well as those that would swim down to the royal nests and snack on any unhatched princes and princesses.

For her, it was nothing but a curse. She couldn't be intimate with the man she loved without breaking all of his bones like twigs. Last time, one ill-placed claw resulted in him getting gored in the stomach. He was in the palace infirmary for days. She still hadn't forgiven herself for that. What if she had accidentally killed him? No, no, she didn't want to think about that.

Of course, his response made it all worse; he blamed _himself_ for the whole fiasco. Kept saying it was his fault for being too weak. But she knew it was her fault - her fault for losing control and devolving into a mindless monster.

What baffled her was why he kept coming back for more. Why was he always so eager to please her when he would get so badly injured every time? Why would he ever want to sleep with her again when she accidentally disemboweled him last time? Not even a "Because he loves you" explanation made sense. That man was so confusing...

She gently massaged the crack. As long as nothing else happened, her carapace would seal itself back up in a day or two. That is, IF nothing else happened. She idly wondered how her opposing queen dealt with her own Beast. But then again, violence was that woman's fetish. She probably lived in harmony with hers.

No, no, she shouldn't think like that. Her current predicament wasn't the Black Queen's fault, she shouldn't be taking her anger out on her.

She suddenly heard footsteps outside. She bristled and quickly sat up. Who was out there? They weren't going to come in here, were they?

"Hello!"

"'Ey, how's it goin'?"

She recognized the voices as two palace servants, the Talkative Secretary and the Guileful Maid.

"Gods, did you see the royals at dinner today?" the Secretary asked, sounding disgusted.

"Yeah, sure did!" the Maid laughed.

The Queen was really glad the King wasn't around, because her face became as red as it could possibly be. She had made a fool of herself, and now everyone was talking about her.

"...I wish my boyfriend would do that to me," the Secretary sighed.

"Aw, don't feel too bad about that," the Maid. "Whenever the King gets a few drinks in him, he suddenly turns into Dr. Superlove. The life of the party, he is!"

The Queen buried her red-streaked face in one of her spidery palms. Their approval felt so much worse than disapproval, for some reason.

"Yeah, did you see him dance?" the Secretary continued "I didn't know a guy that big could move like that!"

"Aye, the King's a lot more agile than he looks," the Maid replied. "You should see him out trainin' sometime. Guy can really jump!"

"I kinda felt sorry for him, though. It was obvious he wanted to dance with the Queen."

Dancing? They started dancing after she left? So that pounding she felt wasn't actually in her head. Still, it was yet another example of not being able to enjoy herself thanks to the Beast. She would have gladly danced with the King otherwise.

"Aye, the Queen's lucky to have a guy like him, she is," the Maid said.

The Queen tried not to sigh. Yes, she was very lucky to have a man like her King. But at times like this, she thought he wasn't so lucky to have a woman like her...

"I wonder if the Black Queen's married?" the Secretary mused.

"Pfft! She's singler than I am!" the Maid scoffed

"Really? 'Cause I heard they got a new king not too long ago..."

"Bah! They're just friends. Besides, that guy never shows himself. Likes to be by himself, or something!"

One of the odd things about the Guileful Maid besides her unidentifiable accent is that she always seemed to know what was going on over on Derse, even if the media didn't know. The Queen often wondered were she'd get that information - and if she would make a good spy.

And speaking of information, it made the Queen rather uncomfortable to know that she currently had something in common with the new Black King. Especially since a Black King was prophesied to kill Prospit's chosen king.

"Too bad, too bad. Maybe if somebody could hook them up, they'd be too busy partying to fight us!" the Secretary said.

The two servants laughed.

"Speaking of queens, where did ours get to?" the Secretary asked.

"Ain't she in her study doin' taxes, or whatever?" the Maid asked.

"I already checked, but she's not there."

"Eh, I haven't seen hide nor hair of her since dinner. She's probably real busy. Bein' a queen's a thankless job, y'know?" the Maid rambled. "Gotta take care of the whole planet, plus a moon. Gotta settle conflicts between cities and make sure them aristocrats ain't up to something shady. And then ya gotta watch out for assassins either from the other side, or hired by people from _your_ side, 'cause you just signed a bill that officially made their 'legitimate' business illegal."

The Secretary gasped. "When did _that_ happen?"

"Uh...theoretically speakin', I mean!" the Maid assured her. "But the point I'm tryin' to make is that the Queen's got a hard job. You try makin' people happy, but they ain't satisfied with nothin'. They just blame you every time somethin' goes wrong, even if it ain't your fault."

A pause.

"...Not that I know anything about bein' a queen, mind you!" the Maid added hastily.

"Uh...well, if you do see her, let her know the King's looking for her, okay?"

"Alright then. She's gotta turn up sooner or later."

The Secretary parted, but the Maid stayed outside, presumably to clean the hallway. It sounded like she was snickering about something.

So people were already noticing her absence. That couldn't be good. Well, it's not like she could stay here all night, anyw-

Hold on, what was that? The Queen suddenly heard something that made her heart jump. It sounded like extremely heavy footsteps. She tried to tell herself that maybe a Rook or a Bishop was walking down the hallway, but their feet don't make metallic noises. There was only one thing that could make a sound like that.

It was the King's metal boot-like feet against the stone floors.

What was he doing up here? The Secretary said he was looking for her - was he looking up here, too? Or was he just passing by? If it was the former, then this wasn't good; she wasn't ready to face him yet.

She looked around the room. In the corner was an old trunk that looked like it was big enough for her to climb into. She silently sneaked across the room, got inside it, and closed the lid as quietly as she could. Curled up in the cramped trunk, she listened closely, waiting for the heavy footsteps to go away.

This was incredibly silly. But the burning in her body and the snarling in her head assured her this was necessary.

"_There_ you are!" the King barked triumphantly.

The Queen nearly yelped, thinking she had somehow been caught.

"HEY, WATCH IT PAL!" the Maid yelled furiously.

"Oh! Oh my, I'm sorry miss," the King said, sounding embarrassed. "I thought you were the Queen for a second there!"

The actual Queen breathed a sigh of relief. It was all a case of mistaken identity.

"Ack! M-my apologizes, Your Majesty," the Maid replied. "I thought you were some random guy gettin' handsy with me."

"No need to apologize, miss. It was my fault," he said. "But in my defense, you do closely resemble the Queen."

"Aww, thank you kindly, your Highness!" the Maid gushed. "If you must know, I think my family is related to one of the previous queens."

That was another odd thing about the Maid; she really did highly resemble the Queen. It was probably just a coincidence, though.

"Speaking of which, have you seen her?" the King asked. "I've looked all over the palace, but I can't seem to find her."

"Can't say I have, sire," the Maid responded.

"Well, not to worry. If you do see her, tell her not to rush," he said. "I have a little surprise for her, but it will take some time to set up. I need to clear my head first, anyway...I had a bit more to drink than I should have had..."

The Maid giggled. "Alright, my liege, I'll let her know," she said.

He was...setting something up? Oh no, she couldn't let him do that! She had to get out there now while there was still time. She had to tell him not to waste his time, that she really couldn't do this. She had to go out there and **fuck his brains out** GET BACK, YOU MONSTER!

There was a sudden loud cracking noise, and her upper right arm felt like it had been sliced open. She had a good feeling she knew what happened.

"Thank you very much, miss," the King continued. "And a good night to you."

"G'night, Your Majesty!" the Maid replied enthusiastically.

The heavy footsteps thudded down the hallway. The Maid let out a flirtatious growl and said to herself, "I'd like to wrestle that guy to the ground one of these days" in a completely different accent. Normally, the Queen wouldn't be amused at another woman ogling her husband like that, but right at this moment, she paid no heed. She was too busy waiting for the footsteps to fade. She waited for a few minutes after they were gone before she stepped out of the trunk. Once again, she felt ashamed for doing that.

She sat back down on the couch, her body aching. She looked at her right arm to survey the damage. The carapace had been completely separated, and her muscles underneath bulged like a Rook's. The Beast was winning; just another thing for her to feel bad about. But at least it didn't burn anymore?

She wondered what she was going to do about the King. She had to face him eventually. She idly wondered what he had in store for her. Bad move; her imagination went wild with bizarre fantasies and exaggerated body parts.

She needed a clear head before she figured out her next move. She decided to try this meditation technique that she was taught a long time ago by one of her Bishops; it helped her in the past. She crossed her legs and closed her eyes...

* * *

The next thing the White Queen knew, she was waking up. Apparently, the meditation knocked her out instead.

How much time had passed? Unfortunately, none of the old clocks in here worked. When she glanced out the window, however, she noticed it was a lot darker outside. It was probably very late.

Thankfully, the rest of her body had cooled down. Her muscles still ached, but it was now just a dull pain. The Beast was quiet for now.

Which meant that now she could figure out what to do. She knew that she couldn't stay here. People were already looking for her, and if she was still absent by morning, everyone would begin to panic. And if they found her here, they'd want to know what she was doing in a storage room all night. Furthermore, the King would be heartbroken, thinking he did something wrong to drive her into hiding. That was the last thing she wanted.

She considered sneaking back into her study and falling asleep in there. It would look like she spent all night working on the bill and just passed out. But maybe that wasn't the greatest of ideas. People would expect her to be much farther along with it if she spent all night on it. That, and it might hurt the King's feelings by looking like she chose work over him. Again, she didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

Then she was reminded of last night; she was able to slip silently in her chambers, change her clothes, and go to bed without him even noticing. It did seem to be very late right now. It was probably safe to assume the King was already asleep. Could she possibly get away with it again? It would be quite a problem if he was still awake, or if he woke up while she was sneaking in. But this plan didn't have anyone getting suspicious of her or the King's feelings getting hurt. It was risky, but worth a try.

She relocked the balcony and then moved the bookcase away from the door (which felt much lighter now). She unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as she could. She peeked outside. She then realized how dark it was in this hallway, so she listened instead. No footsteps - it seemed like the coast was clear.

She sneaked out into the hallway, trying her best to walk only on the carpets. Of course, this was difficult when the carpets were hard to see. She needed to get to the nearest teleporter to take her up to her chamber. No wait, forget that...the King might hear it go off. She would instead that it up to the floor _beneath_ her chamber, then use the stairs to-AAGH!

While stumbling through the darkness, she accidentally walked into a table. A potted plant sitting on it fell over. But that was the least of her worries.

"Who goes there?"

A guard heard her! If he found her, he'd insist on taking her up to her chamber personally. It was part of his job, after all. But he'd be too much of a liability - he'd probably wake the King up by accident. She couldn't let him see her. She dove into the nearest alcove and flattened herself against the wall.

She heard the guard coming closer. She then heard him grumbling that it was just a plant getting knocked over. She patiently waited until he righted the plant and left the hallway before she made a break for it. She was quite thankful he didn't bother to ask why the plant had been tipped over.

There was a teleportation platform right at the end of this hall. She could use it to go up to her chambers, or rather the floor just below it. Fortunately, she managed to reach it without any more mishaps. She carefully stepped on the platform...

...And wound up in the pantry! She had accidentally used the teleporter that led to the lower floors. Of course, it had been so dark in that hallway, how could she have known?

She stepped off the platform and started looking around for the teleporter that would take her to the upper floors. It couldn't be too far away. She thought she spied another disk on the floor on the other side of the room. That was probably it. She'd just make her way over there, and-

"'Ey, Your Majesty! Are you gettin' a midnight snack?"

The Queen nearly jumped out of her shell - almost literally, in the case of her right arm. She whipped around to see the Guileful Maid bowing before her, a mop in her hand. She sighed in relief...and frustration.

"Good evening, Maid," she said, trying to rid any hint of being startled out of her voice. "How are you this evening?"

"Not bad, Your Highness, not bad," the Maid replied. "Just moppin' the kitchen floor."

"Alright, good," the Queen replied. "To answer your question, I actually came here by accident. Would you be so kind as to tell me where the teleporter to the upper levels is located?"

"It's right behind you, my Queen," the Maid answered, pointing in the direction of that disk she saw earlier.

"Thank you very much," the Queen said.

"By the way, Your Highness, the King's been lookin' for you."

"Er...yes, so I've heard." With a pause, the Queen added, "Speaking of the King, will you do me another favor?"

"Anything, Your Majesty."

"Would you please refrain from wrestling my husband 'to the ground' anytime soon? I feel strange enough when he has to spar with his female troops. Thank you."

The Queen turned and walked toward the teleporter as the Maid sat there, looking stunned. As she pressed the button on the wall for the floor underneath her chambers, she thought she heard the Maid chuckling in that other voice of hers.

A split second later, she was on the correct floor. Fortunately, no guards were patrolling this area yet. Now all she had to do was find the stairs.

Thankfully, it was much more well lit in this hallway. She could clearly see the doorway to the stairs a few yards away. Thank goodness.

But she wasn't out of the proverbial woods yet. She still needed to get into her chambers without alerting any guards that might be on that floor nor waking up the King. Hopefully, it would be as easy as yes-OOF!

It wasn't a table this time. As well lit as this hallway was, the Queen could not see a raised stone hiding underneath an edge of the carpet. She tripped and tumbled to the ground. She managed to land on her hands and knees, but she still made a loud "clang" when her metal hands hit the floor.

"What was that?" she heard a guard say in the distance.

Was _everything_ going to go wrong today? She was so close, too! Forget it, she was sick to death of hiding. She stood back up, ran to the door, and bolted up the stairs. The guards can figure out what happened on their own.

She slowed down as she approached the next floor. Before entering, she peeked through the small window in the door to make sure the coast was clear. The royal chambers were just a few feet away. No guards were stationed directly outside the doors tonight. Given what he had hoped to do, she understood why the King would ask the guards not to stand there; he wouldn't want them overhearing anything.

She slowly opened the stairway door and quietly stalked to her chamber doors. Better be careful not to alert even more guards. Her pulse pounded as she neared the doors. She prayed he wasn't still awake and waiting for her. She prayed that the wine made him fall into a very deep sleep.

Her long fingers gripped the handle on the door on the right side. This was it. Her muscles burned again. She was filled with so much dread...and at the same time, so much want.

She opened the door a crack and peeked in, trying to see the bed. Unfortunately, she could only see its foot from this angle. However, she didn't see the King walking around or sitting in any of the chairs. The coast seemed clear.

She silently slipped in. Still no sign of her mate. She felt relieved...and at the same time, oddly disappointed. She looked to the bed and found...

The King wasn't there. He didn't seem to be anywhere in the room. Oh dear, she never thought of what she would do if he wasn't here at all. She had to think fast.

Alright, she had an idea. While she was up here, she'd change into a nightgown. Then she'd go back to her study (no need to sneak, it wouldn't matter if the guards escorted her this time) and go to sleep in there. The next morning, she could easily say that she went to her chambers looking for the King, but couldn't find him. So she decided to get back to work for awhile and accidentally fell asleep instead. The nightgown would be her proof that she was in here. That sounded plausible enough. She just hoped he wouldn't do something along the lines of going down there and carrying her to bed.

Just like the night before, she quietly stepped behind her dressing screen and removed her clothes. But as she placed her dress over a nearby chair, she suddenly realized her nightgown from last night had disappeared. The maids must have taken it up with the rest of the laundry. No matter, she could just go get a new one from her wardrobe. It might eat up precious time, but she would also be closer to the d-

As she was turning around, her elbow knocked over a vase of flowers on the table behind her. That was the second plant today! The Beast was making her awful clumsy. Thankfully, the vase was plastic, so it didn't shatter. It still, however, made a loud thump when it fell. She righted it and replaced any flowers that fell out. She'd worry about the spilled water later.

But just as she was about to go for her wardrobe again, she suddenly heard the door to the baths open.

"My Queen?" she heard the King's voice inquire.

She jumped back as if she had been stung. It slipped her mind that the King could simply be in the adjacent room. She ducked down behind her screen and waited for him to leave. She prayed he wouldn't come back here and find her, especially what with her being completely naked.

She then heard him...chuckle? She tensed as she heard him start to walk across the room. Oh no, did he know she was back here? Her body started to feel hot again. She heard the Beast chuckling at her, too.

Thankfully, all he did was walk to the chamber doors and lock them before heading back to the baths. Ah, he was probably getting ready to take a shower. She silently breathed a sigh of relief.

She waited until she heard the bathroom door close before she peeked around her screen. He was gone. Time to act.

She sneaked out from behind the dressing screen and over to her wardrobe. She opened the drawers as quietly as she could, and began to rummage through her clothes. She needed to find a nightgown, particularly one with long sleeves. That way, she could hide this bulging bicep of hers. After this, it was all a matter of getting out of this room quietly enough.

She noticed that she didn't hear any water running in the next room. If the King was taking a shower, should he not be in there by n-AGGH!

The Queen froze as she was playfully whipped in the rear by a bathtowel.

She didn't need to turn around to know she was doomed, but she did anyway. Standing directly behind her was the King, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, the towel he affectionately smacked her with over his shoulder, and that mischievous grin on his face. Of course, his heavy carapace made him look like he was wearing a suit of armor, even though he was actually nude.

And speaking of which, his metal shell was gleaming a luxurious silver in the dim light. He must have been serious about polishing himself.

Before she could say anything, he wrapped her up in a warm, tender embrace. She couldn't help but rest her head against his thick chestplates. It felt so heavenly cuddling him that she completely forgot that she was originally trying to avoid him. She wished they could just stay like this, snuggling all night long. She'd just enjoy his warmth, his big, strong arms around her, **his huge gonopods pounding between her legs** - GO AWAY, BEAST.

"I'm afraid you weren't able to sneak up on me, my Queen," the King purred. "I guess I am getting better at preparing for ambushes."

"What...what do you mean?" the Queen asked, confused.

"I saw you through your screen," the King chuckled.

The Queen glanced over to her dressing screen and realized that light from outside was pouring through it. When she tried to hide, he probably saw her silhouette. She didn't want to correct him, however. If she did, she'd have to explain that she had actually been doing, which was trying to avoid him.

"You missed our impromptu dance party after dinner," the King continued. "All of us had a bit too much to drink, and it suddenly led to that. But you're just in time for our romantic evening." His grin widened, and he held out his right forearm. "Remember that buffet I promised you? There's a special on king crabmeat."

With a sudden snap that didn't come from her carapace, the King unsheathed his enormous right pincer claw. Impressing the ladies with large or flashy claws was a standard Carapacian mating ritual, and the Queen was certainly impressed. It dawned on her that she hadn't seen his claws since before his coronation. His right one had always been rather large, but now it was so huge, she wondered how he hid it in his body - it looked like it was longer than his forearm.

In a daze, she slowly stroked it with her fingers. It was completely silver except for its very tips, which were almost black. It had the same thick armor as the rest of his body, and it looked strong enough to crush metal beams. Upon seeing the King's strength earlier this afternoon, she wouldn't be surprised at all if his claw could actually do just that. She jerked her hand back when she felt her muscles push up against her carapace again.

"Like what you see, milady?" the King said smoothly. "The Mutation was rather kind to me, it seems." He gently wrapped his right arm around her again before whispering, "It was kind to me in certain other places too, as you'll soon find out."

She was reminded of her curiosity last night. She tried to stifle an awkward giggle, but it slipped out anyway. It was then that he began to softly tap his big claw against her back.

_Please come out. _

_Please come out of that shell. _

_I want to mate with you._

It was a lesser-known mating ritual that the King had found out about a long time ago from some old book. It worked all the same. Her muscles began to bulge out everywhere with newfound strength. It took everything she had to fight them back, and they still managed to put deeper cracks in her shell.

She needed to put an end to this..._now,_ before the Beast got out and ended it for them. But it was so hard to get the words out. The King was pushing all of her buttons, leaving her speechless. She wanted him so badly, but she just couldn't have him. If she lost control again, he'd be killed this time - she was sure of it.

"Isn't it a little late?" That wasn't what she really wanted to say, but it was the best she could do in her state.

"No, no, it's actually the perfect time, don't you see?" the King replied. "Everyone should be sleeping deeply by now. They won't hear our sweet, passionate lovemaking."

_And they won't hear you screaming if _she _breaks loose and rips your throat out,_ the Queen thought glumly.

But before she could attempt say anything else, the King leaned forward and began slowly devouring her lips. Before she could stop herself, she started returning the favor. A moment later, she was practically shoving him to the ground while jamming her tongue down his throat. Her body was wracked with pain and her carapace cracked all over, but she ignored it.

The King stumbled backward, but managed to catch himself before she caused him to topple over. He broke from their kiss, a greedy smile on his face.

"Well, it looks to me like you're ready!" he laughed wickedly. "Best not keep you waiting, then!"

He retracted his claw and swept her up into his arms, which snapped her back into reality. Oh no, what had that Beast done this time? The muscles in both of her arms and her calves had broken free of her carapace and had grown massive. Everywhere else, her shell had eased apart at its joints. She was losing this war very quickly.

The King began to carry her into the baths. She tried once again to say something, to stop this madness, but his seductive spell and her own desire left her mute.

As they entered the baths, she could see that the room was lit with dozens of candles. A bit cliche, but effective. The air was scented with a mix of wild flowers and raspberries, one of her favorite scents. The large hot tub in the center of the room (which was more or less a small in-ground pool) was filled with water. He gently sat her down at the edge of the tub, her feet in the water.

"Just wait right here, my Queen," the King cooed, "while I finish a few more preparations." He headed off to a table that was covered in a golden cloth along the wall to her left.

She barely heard him, however, as she was too busy staring blankly at her elongated talons on both her hands and feet. Talons that nearly killed her husband several months ago. They began to give her unwanted flashbacks. The two of them were in the water together, her mate not yet a king. He vowed to make her "the most satisfied woman in the Incisisphere," that her moans of pleasure would be heard all the way on Derse. She wasn't sure if she was ever that loud, but she had definitely lost herself in the throes of passion. The next thing she could remember was the Writ Keeper gagging while feebly attempting to hide a massive abdominal wound from her, and her hands covered in his blood.

It was times like this she wished she wasn't a queen. If she had been born a pawn, this would have been a wonderful romantic evening. There would be no fear of her accidentally injuring anyone. She just wanted **him inside her** without worrying about breaking his bones. She wanted **to bury him up to his hilts and ride his shiny metal ass like a mechanical bull** without worrying about mortally wounding him. Was that too much to ask?

Her gaze drifted over to the King, who was removing the golden sheet. The table was covered in various fruits and condiments. Apparently, he serious about the "buffet" theme.

She stared at him incredulously. Maybe she wasn't the only one with a problem. She just couldn't understand why the King was blissfully ignoring everything that happened last time. Did he forget? Was he mad?

The King turned to her. "What do you think?" he asked. "I wanted to make sure it was a feast fit for a queen." He chuckled and his grin widened. "But what feast would be complete without an entree? Shall I show you the main course?"

With one swift motion, he untoweled himself, revealing his unshelled gonopods.

Oh. Oh my. To answer her question from last night, yes, the Mutation _did_ make him "proportional," even there. It was good to be king.

With one last loud crack, the plates on her entire carapace disconnected from each other, and her crimson muscles swelled until she was larger than her husband. Any last-ditch efforts to get them under control were simply swept away by an overwhelming wave of desire. To complete her transformation, a long, muscular tail snaked out of her behind, and white wing-like fins grew out of her forearms. The Queen could only watch her metamorphosis in horror. The Beast was out, at least physically.

The King's reaction made it all worse. He should have been horrified too, but he wasn't. He just chuckled and remarked, "Good to see I finally have you out of your shell." His approval was infinitely worse than his disapproval.

"No!" the Queen shouted, finally finding the words. "I just can't...sorry, but I just can't do this..." She turned away from him, buried her face in her overgrown hands, and curled her tail around herself in shame.

"My Queen?" the King asked, puzzled. She heard him sit down next to her and felt him place a reassuring paw on her broadened shoulder. "My Queen, what's wrong? Did I...did I do something wrong? Was I coming off too strongly?"

She turned to face him. Thankfully, he had retoweled himself. The sad look on his sweet face was almost too much to bear.

"No, no...," she sighed. Now that he wasn't trying to seduce her, he was much easier to talk to. "You're not doing anything wrong...if anything, you're doing everything _right._ It's just...I just can't do this, not after what happened last time."

"Last time? Is that what this is about?" the King asked, holding her close. "Please...just forget about last time. It won't happen again, I promise."

"I _can't_ forget about last time," the Queen barked, frustrated, "and I don't understand why you did. Don't you realize I could have killed you? Are you mad?"

"But you _didn't_ kill me," the King said as he gently rubbed her shoulder trying to calm her. "Look, every male Carapace in the Incisisphere is very much aware of the dangers of mating, especially those of us who become the queen's mate. But we all learn to ignore it. And to risk sounding like a romance novel of lesser quality, yes, I _am_ mad. I'm madly in love with you."

He kissed her on the forehead. She was slowly starting to feel better. But then the King frowned and sighed. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to say next.

"Besides, what happened last time was my fault, anyway," he said. "I just wasn't paying atten-"

"Stop it!" the Queen almost shouted. "Please stop blaming yourself like that, I can't stand it! It was _my_ fault. I'm the one that lost control!"

"Well...how about this?" the King replied. "Let's both stop blaming ourselves and call it an accident. Does that sound good?"

"Al-alright then, let's do that." The Queen was still convinced it was all her fault, but if it got the King to stop blaming himself, she'd agree to it.

"It's done," he smiled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. She finally cracked a smile herself.

"But there's still an important issue we need to address," the King continued, his face growing serious, "and that's your concerns about potential injuries inflicted on me. I know just saying, 'Don't worry about me' or 'I'll be fine' isn't going to convince you. So I'll prove it to you."

He let go of her and sat up straight in a kneeling position. He threw his chest out.

"I want you to punch me as hard as you can in the stomach," he instructed. "Don't hold anything back!"

The Queen stared at him, aghast. "My King, I can't do something like that!" she cried.

The King looked thoughtful for a moment. "If it helps, imagine I'm my opposing general instead!" he suggested.

The Queen just shook her head. "I haven't heard anything about Derse's latest king that would make me want to strike him," she said. "All I've heard is that he's rather shy and aloof. I couldn't attack a man just for not being sociable."

The King looked thoughtful again, this time for a bit longer. "I've got it!" he said. "Pretend I'm the _archagent_ of Derse! Uh, what was his name again? Oh right, Ja-"

The King was cut off by a vicious right hook to the gut from the Queen. She had heard all about Derse's poisonous archagent, and he definitely _was_ someone she secretly wouldn't mind striking.

Punching the King in the stomach felt as if she had just punched one of the palace's fortified stone walls. And just like the walls, he never flinched. Nevertheless, she jerked her hand back in horror of what she just did.

"I-I'm terribly sorry, my King!" she cried. "I don't know what came over me! Are you hurt?"

"Now, now, don't apologize. After all, I _was_ asking for it," the King chuckled, holding her much larger hands. "And I didn't feel a thing."

She gave him a strange look. "Are you _sure_?" she asked, thinking he might be bluffing.

"I'm _positive_," he answered. "Do you see now? What happened last time can't happen now. I'm a much tougher guy - I can handle it! Besides, I have more protection this time!"

He rapped his knuckles against one of his thick, metal chestplates in demonstration. He had a point; last time, his carapace had only been made of a hard plastic.

The King wrapped his arms around her in another tender embrace. "I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself," he continued. "Please don't hold back because you're afraid I'll get hurt. Alright?"

The Queen wasn't completely sold. She worried that the King was overestimating himself just a bit. Sure, he could take on a squad of Rooks, but could he deal with the Beast in a situation when his defenses are supposed to be down?

That's when she realized something - the Beast had gone silent. Ever since they stopped to talk about their troubles, the Queen had not heard any growling, shrieking, or depraved commands. Was that a good sign? Was she gone for good? The Queen didn't know for sure. But maybe...

_Maybe_

She should go ahead and take that chance while her mind was at peace.

She returned the King's embrace with her sinewy, winged arms and said, "Alright, I'll do that."

For a moment, they sat there, just holding each other and sharing more deep kisses. Eventually the King broke away said, "So...shall we get started?"

This time it was the Queen's turn to smile coyly. "Sounds like a good idea. I was starting to get a little hungry."

The King returned the sly grin. "Anything on the menu that you're particularly interested in?"

"Well, there were some crab legs I wanted to try," the Queen replied as she reached over and slowly stroked his polished thigh. "It was those big, juicy ones that came on such a lovely silver platter."

The King cackled, took her hand, and kissed it. "I hope you've made enough room for those, milady" he said, grinning wickedly from ear to ear. "They can be rather _filling_."

She chuckled darkly at him. "Oh, I think I have plenty of room for them," she told him, "and I'd love to be nice and full."

He busted out laughing and gave her a big squeeze. Then he proceeded to rub her shoulders. The massage felt good, as her muscles were still tender from growing so much.

"In that case, my Queen, I shall serve you a feast that will fill you as you've never been filled before!" he said in lustful excitement. "One that will surely stick to your ribs! It will fill you to your brim and run over! You'll be so full, you'll...uh, you'll..."

"...Be the most satisfied woman in the Incisisphere?" she finished for him.

"Yes! Right! Most certainly! And...and also..."

"...My moans of satiety will be heard all the way on Derse?"

"Better than that...they'll hear you out in the Furthest Ring!" He kissed the top of her head. "You know how I always aim to please, milady."

She couldn't help but giggle. If she excited him any further, he'd start babbling incoherently. His antics were just so adorable. Better yet, the Beast continued to remain silent; it felt so good to enjoy his silliness without having to worry about her.

The King suddenly stood up. "But before I do any of that...," he said, as he ran over to the table with all the food on it. He returned with a plate of strawberries. "How about something to whet your appetite first?"

In an attempt to be more seductive, he unsheathed his huge claw again and attempted to pick one of the berries up with its very tip. Unfortunately for him, his claw was far to large and cumbersome for the task. The berries kept slipping out of his grasp.

The Queen gently placed a hand on his claw. "Maybe you should just do it by hand?" she suggested, holding back a chuckle.

"Er...yes, that would probably be easier," the King said, with an embarrassed smile.

He slipped his claw back into his arm, and picked up a berry with his bare hand. "Open wide, please," he said, teasingly.

The Queen reached over, grabbed a strawberry off the platter, and held it up to him. "How about we both do it?" she asked. "After all, I never got to feed you anything at dinner."

The King shrugged and smiled at her. "Sounds like a good idea to me," he replied.

With that, the two of them sat there for awhile, feeding each other strawberries. They moved on to a few other fruits, trying to eat them in a provocative manner (including one failed attempt by the King to eat a slice of watermelon seductively. Fortunately for him, the Queen still found it funny), or sharing innuendos and double-entendres about them here and there.

Afterward, the King took the Queen by the hand and asked, "So...ready for the main course?"

She stopped to listen for a moment. Still silence. She'd be as ready as she'd ever be.

"Why yes, I do believe I could go for those crab legs right about now," she snickered, giving his big hand a kiss.

With that, the King removed his towel again. The two of them stepped into the pool hand-in-hand for the main event of their romantic evening.

* * *

The two monarchs were curled up at the edge of the tub, cuddled up in each other's arms. The White Queen was resting her head against the White King's shoulder. She looked tired, but happy. If she was happy, he was happy.

"How was it?" he asked, gently stroking her brawny upper arm.

"Wonderful," she sighed, snuggling him. "Very..._stimulating_." She then looked him in the eye. "So...do you think they heard me in the Furthest Ring?"

"I'd like to think so, my Queen" he replied with his signature mischievous smile.

She gave him a content squeeze, and he tried not to flinch. In reality, he had gotten pretty battered and bruised from the whole ordeal, but that was to be expected when mating with a queen. His stomach was also sore from that nasty punch she had given him earlier from his demonstration. It took everything he had to keep the wind from being knocked out of him. Not that he'd tell her about any of that. She had already gotten upset when she found that she had left deep scratch marks in his chestplates. He had reassured her that it would buff out, but she had still been disturbed by it.

He had the feeling that this fear was why she had been so scarce after dinner. At first, he had worried that he had done something wrong. He worried that he had come on too strongly, or said something that turned her off. Or perhaps he had secretly embarrassed her, even though she seemed to be enjoying herself. He knew full well that once she wound him up, he tended to make a big fool of himself. Thankfully, it was only his friends that were the guests that night - they didn't mind him acting like an ass. But still, it felt like he couldn't trust himself around her sometimes.

He had searched the palace high and low for her, but hadn't found her anywhere. He had almost considered calling the whole thing off, but then he decided against it. Maybe she was just _that_ busy. He didn't want to break a promise, either.

It was when she started talking about the last time they were together that he realized that perhaps it hadn't been his behavior at dinner. It broke his heart to hear her blame herself like that. Despite his proposal to declare it all an accident, he still knew the whole thing was his fault; he had been the one trying to get her to lose control in the first place. He was trying out some technique on her he had read in a book that promised to drive any woman wild with pleasure. Fortunately for him, it actually worked. Unfortunately, he got careless and underestimated the Queen's strength. He could have easily dodged her talons had he been paying more attention. As a result, he landed himself in the infirmary, and the Queen wouldn't stop calling herself a "monster." Or a "beast." Yes, she was fond of that word, for some reason.

Either way. he was surprised she ever wanted to sleep with him again. Now that he thought about it, that was probably the main reason he became so overly excited at dinner; he was just so elated that she was actually considering being intimate with him after everything that happened.

In the end, he was glad he didn't cancel their evening. Somehow she had gotten over her fear, and it looked like she had a lot of fun. He felt proud that he made her feel so good.

He thought about asking her if she wanted to go another round, but she looked very tired. It was very late after all, and she had had a long day. Besides, the both of them needed to shower before they went to bed for the evening, thanks to a little fun with condiments. No matter; they could always go again later, maybe sometime when he wasn't feeling so sore.

For now, he was glad to finally get her out of her shell.


End file.
